


Little Town Street

by ellekim94



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Gen, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Happy Ending Because Life Is Shitty Enough, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellekim94/pseuds/ellekim94
Summary: Jisung is doubting his chances of debuting. He asks himself a lot of questions. Then, he meets Minho who gives an answer for him.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Little Town Street

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a STAY. (At least, not yet.) I've seen God's Menu a lot of times because I really like its beat and I feel it's different than the usual K-pop sound nowadays. Then, I saw a MinSung video today (and tell me how can I NOT ship them), I heard Taylor Swift's All Too Well today (which is a really, really good song), and thus, this fic.
> 
> If the characters are OOC, it's because all the processing in this story happened in only a couple of hours. I had inspiration from the song, I fell in love with MinSung's dynamic, and I just wrote.
> 
> Do enjoy reading.

Jisung stands in the sidewalk, letting the strap of his duffel bag fall from his shoulder to his arm, the weight of everything he is carrying weighing on his left arm but it still isn’t as heavy as the thing that is burying in his chest whenever he looks at the setting sun. He feels his hand getting wet from the moist of the canned iced coffee he just bought from the convenience store in front of the company building but he can’t tear his gaze from the sun’s abandoned sky.

It’s just that the sky is so vast and he wonders how many possibilities lie in there that can possibly make or break his dream. In the million chances of debuting (or not), how many odds are truly in his favor? What are the odds that he’ll never be able to debut but he’ll still find something worth doing in his life and be happy?

He supposes these questions are the result of practicing for two years without an assurance of debuting or maybe, it’s just how the setting sun makes him feel absolutely alone under a sky that infinite.

Jisung, sighing, decides he’s not going to get anywhere near home or answers to his question standing there idly. He thinks he is also beginning to get stared at for staring up too long. He quickly turns around which he realizes a second too late a bad decision when he collides into another guy.

He is about to apologize when he realizes that in the process of trying not to fall on top of Jisung, the guy takes an imbalanced step backwards that topples him to his side which happens to be an electric post with few dead wires hanging on it. It shouldn’t be that bad but the impact of colliding against Jisung and his precarious fall add impact which results to the guy’s right arm grazed and bleeding.

“Fuck, are you alright?” Jisung worriedly asks instead of apologizing first. He carelessly drops his duffel bag to the ground and grabs the guy’s arm before looking up at him again. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention —”

“It’s cool, man,” the guy says, smiling even.

“But you’re bleeding,” Jisung points out guiltily, letting go of the other’s arm.

“Happens all the time,” the guy shrugs, chuckling.

Jisung gives him an even more worried look until the guy explains, still laughing, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

Despite everything that’s bottled up inside him that is honestly hurting his head whenever he thinks about them too much, Jisung is not about to leave a person who is bleeding because of him just like that. He insists and manages to convince the guy to at least let him buy band-aids for him, or whatever that can be bought inside the convenience store a few steps away from them to ease Jisung’s tainted conscience.

Jisung grabs an entire box of band-aids, antiseptic, and cotton buds, pays for it quickly, and returns outside where the guy is sitting, looking at the people walking by. He places everything on the table and moves to clean the bleeding part of the guy’s arm. Fortunately, it doesn’t look that bad after he’s cleaned it. It’s still a cut, two inches at most, but since he first thought the guy’s entire upper arm is bleeding, he’ll take two inches for now.

After he finished cleaning the cut, he puts two band-aids on it because one won’t suffice, returns everything on the plastic, and hands it to the guy. “I’m really sorry again,” Jisung says again.

The guy looks somewhat amused before answering, “I know. It’s obvious.” Then, he stands up from where he’s sitting and asks, “Don’t feel bad now. Most people will leave it at ‘sorry.’ You’ve done way more than ninety percent of the population would already.” He even smiles at Jisung after saying that.

“Okay,” Jisung finds himself relaxing a little. He returns the guy’s smile, giving a small one of his own. “Take care then.”

“Yeah,” the guy nods.

The guy turns to walk away and it takes Jisung a while before he realizes that he’s walking on the direction where the other guy is walking, too. It’s not that he’s trying to follow him — the guy said it’s okay already and he would also like to forget about accidentally harming another human being because he is caught up with his thoughts now — but his way home is also where the guy is walking… somewhere.

He doesn’t have any conscious thought on walking the same way he walks home everyday, a path he has taken almost everyday for two years now, and he doesn’t genuinely notice they have been walking together for about five minutes already until the guy turns to him, giving him another amused look. “Dude,” the guy begins, looking like he is trying to sound wary but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m fine.”

Jisung blinks again and it might be because he is lost in the prisoning thoughts in his mind again that renders him unavailable to register anything that is actually happening in the present once he is caught but it just dawns on to him that this guy is bleeding several minutes ago because of him and now, he probably looks like a creepy stalker following him.

“Oh, no — no, I mean, I’m also going in this direction,” he stammers, explaining hastily. “I’m not following you, I swear. I didn’t even know —”

The sound of the guy’s laughter relieves Jisung that he will not spend the night in jail for physical assault and stalking charges. His shoulder visibly eases and he lets out a sigh of relief, staring at the other guy who is openly laughing at his face which should bother him at some level but honestly doesn’t.

“I’m Minho,” the guy suddenly says after his fit of laughter.

Jisung looks at him, a little confused. He’s certain the other guy got hurt because of him even though it’s completely unintentional and he’s also certain the other guy thought he’s a creepy stalker a few minutes ago. There’s no reason for him to introduce himself.

“Minho, that’s my name,” the guy — or Minho smirks. Somehow, Jisung’s confusion is mistaken as ignorance.

“I know,” Jisung answers, looking at least a little offended this time. He should ask why they are exchanging names but instead, he finds himself saying, “I’m Jisung.”

“What were you thinking about earlier?” Minho inquires, glancing at Jisung, after they resumed walking.

Jisung looked at him with a confused expression. He isn’t confused by Minho’s question. He is confused because he didn’t notice Minho until the other spoke up and he doesn’t know how Minho could have known he’s thinking of something. He supposes it’s not all unusual because people are supposed to think after all but he humors himself because not everyone thinks as much as him. And that’s not the greatest thing. It might actually be better for him if he thinks less nowadays.

There’s just a limit a person can think, Jisung tells himself. With probably a million variables a person can’t control, he thinks there’s a kind of freedom in letting things be no matter how they turn out and be okay with it.

“It’s obvious you were deep in thoughts. I glanced back at you a few times and you didn’t notice until I spoke up,” Minho explains, somehow guessing what’s going on in Jisung’s mind in the few seconds of silence between them.

What is Jisung thinking? Well, that’s easy. He’s thinking of a lot of things. He’s thinking of training even before the sun rises up. He’s thinking of training for two years. He’s thinking of signing a contract as a trainee instead of having a normal life like most people his age. He’s thinking of his parents and his older brother and what will it be like to be at home instead of strangers that keep changing every now and then. He’s thinking of the company and if they truly see potential in him on debuting.

He’s thinking of the few friends that are with him now and the many that have already left. He’s thinking about how they were doing now, are they alright or what are their dreams now. He’s thinking if dreams can change depending on someone’s circumstances. He’s thinking about who will left this month. He’s thinking if he should leave. He’s thinking when it’s right to leave and quit. He’s thinking what he will do after if he quits. He’s thinking how many more years before he can figure it out. He’s thinking what it is he wants to figure out. He’s thinking he doesn’t know exactly what it is he wants to figure out.

He’s thinking what’s the point.

He’s thinking what the hell is he doing when he doesn’t know the point.

He’s thinking…

“You don’t need to answer that actually,” Minho is saying just as Jisung turns to look him in the eyes and answer his question with, “I’m thinking, what am I doing here? I’m thinking, what’s the point?”

Just as it escapes his mouth, Jisung wants to regret it. He hasn’t shared any of these thoughts with anyone, not even the trainees he is closest with, and he seriously isn’t sharing it now with a stranger. Except he is. He feels his face turn a little red and he is about to run ahead, forgetting the entire exchange. Somehow just saying it out loud cemented him not knowing what the hell he is doing with his life.

But Minho gives an easy chuckle and tells him, “I knew you were thinking something deep. You have that face.”

“What face?” Jisung easily asks, forgetting about his initial embarrassment to retort. “A handsome face?”

Minho laughs. “A face that’s carrying a lot inside him,” he explains. “But sure, a handsome face, too,” he adds, but makes a throwing up face.

For the first time in forever, Jisung laughs without the thoughts that have been haunting him for the past months hovering over him if he is laughing too much, if the joy will disappear as quickly as it came, or if he even has any right to laugh.

“So you can laugh,” Minho comments, chuckling himself. “And to answer your questions, although you don’t have to take my answer for your own, what am I doing here? I don’t know. I don’t give a shit that I don’t know. There’s almost too many things to try and do in this world to give an exact answer of what I’m doing here. Oh, and what’s the point? I think the point is to keep searching for that point.”

There’s an almost wistful smile at the end of his words and briefly, Jisung wonders if one of the point in Minho’s life he is talking about is saying those words to Jisung at exactly that second, at a time when the sun has already set but the moon is still nowhere to be seen, two blocks away from home he is sure half an hour ago he will spend the rest of the night like every other night, he will arrive and he will stare at the ceiling two hours before falling asleep (if he gets lucky), thinking of the questions Minho just effortlessly answered.

“You have that face again,” Minho says after they both doesn’t speak for a long moment.

“A face that’s carrying a lot inside him?” Jisung asks.

Minho shakes his head. “A handsome face,” he answers, smirking.

Jisung shakes his head at the other but he is laughing, strangely feeling a comfortable warmth bubbling inside him despite the heat of the summer irritating him almost all day. He finds it even more strange that it’s because of a stranger he has been with barely an hour ago and exchanged only several sentences with.

After they turn two more blocks, Jisung finally arrives at the foot of their building. He honestly isn’t obliged to say anything to Minho but he turns to him anyway and says, “Well, I’m here.”

Minho nods and gives him a smile.

It takes about thirty seconds of Jisung walking inside the building when he notices Minho is the one following him now. He turns around and Minho gives him a sheepish grin. He wonders if he maybe lives in the building, too, or is just dropping by for someone. He’s certain this building is only for trainees of the company though.

He takes the elevator and Minho follows there, too.

He steps out of the elevator at fourth floor and Minho follows behind him.

Confused and a little perturbed, Jisung looks back to Minho looking back at him with an innocent expression. “This is our floor, okay? No one else lives here. What are you doing here?” he asks Minho.

Just then, the door opens and Chan comes out with Changbin and Woojin. They are all surprised to see Jisung but Jisung is even more surprised when Chan says, “Oh, Jisung, you’re back with Minho. Do you guys meet at the company? Did they tell you to come home with Minho?”

Jisung looks confused as hell. He turns to Minho again but he is already walking towards the older trainees, giving Jisung a glance with yet another grin, before he formally introduces himself to the others. He watches Woojin usher Minho inside while Changbin helps him with his bags. He wonders how can he not notice Minho carrying a duffel bag the same as him? Chan is talking animatedly at him about practicing together from now on but it’s not until they are all inside and everyone is out of their rooms that it truly registers to him.

“I’m Lee Minho, a new trainee. Nice to meet you all,” he greets everyone with that shit-eating grin in his face, too comfortable for someone meeting a bunch of strangers for the first time. He pauses his gaze at Jisung’s direction and Jisung awkwardly looks away.

“What happened to your arm?” Chan has to notice his arm in double band-aids and ask. “Did you get hurt?”

Minho shakes his head, smiling. “No,” he answers. “This is nothing, hyung. Just saw another point on the way here.”

Jisung feels his face burning when he hears that, chalking it up to the summer heat, because he is definitely not thinking that before. (He knows he is.) He watches Chan’s face twist in a bit of confusion but he only shrugs and doesn’t say anything anymore. He looks back at Minho again and sees the other already looking back at him. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds before he hears Chan calling Minho to his supposed room. Minho turns to go but not before sending a wink at Jisung’s direction.

Two years later, Jisung is lying on his back, staring at the ceiling while Minho has his head on the Jisung’s stomach, fiddling with some game on his phone. He is having a peaceful time thinking back to two years ago if he ever thought he will have the life he is living now when he feels something poking his side.

He looks down and sees Minho staring up at him. “What are you thinking?” Minho asks him, sitting up so he can look at Jisung’s face properly.

“My past self,” Jisung easily answers, never having a problem with sharing any of his thoughts to Minho. Even before he actually met him, he realizes.

“Yeah, what about it?” Minho prods, looking at the younger fondly.

Jisung sits up before answering. He looks at Minho and tells him, “If you somehow came from the future and told me all those things you told me that day.”

Minho smiles and reaches for Jisung’s hand. “I know you’re thinking something serious. You have that face again.”

“A handsome face?” Jisung grins, squeezing Minho’s hand on his.

“No, a face that’s found a point or two,” Minho replies with another smile. Then, he looks up at Jisung’s eyes and softly adds, “I hope I’m one.”

Jisung’s face turns from blank to confused to unreadable until he’s smiling too much Minho thinks he might as well have a heart attack. He lets go of Minho’s hand and leans his head on the other’s chest instead, listening to Minho’s heart that’s beating twice, or maybe thrice, as fast as normal and knowing his own is catapulting the same.

Wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist, Jisung whispers, “I think my past self asked you because he knows you’ll be one in the future.”

Minho chuckles, bringing his hand to Jisung’s head and messing with Jisung’s hair.

Jisung thinks he’s certainly found more than a point or two, a hundred of it just in one person.

**Author's Note:**

> "You told me about your past thinking your future was me." - So I know I said the whole song inspired me to write this but this line specifically drew the words I wrote.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEGYDeGdZzw&t=17s - The video is called "minsung being each others soulmate for 10 minutes" and in 10 minutes, I believed. Thanks to this video, I think I found a new ship. (Like I don't have enough already.)
> 
> Everyone stay safe.


End file.
